


no heckling allowed

by scribespirare



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Acceptance, Established Relationship, Fluff, Graphic Threats, I promise this is actually very sweet, M/M, Wearing your bfs clothes and then laughing at his attempts to be threatening, just Alastor being Alastor, mentions of torture, no actual violence though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribespirare/pseuds/scribespirare
Summary: Alastor's worried he might scare Angel away.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 299





	no heckling allowed

**Author's Note:**

> someone in my discord server wanted this prompt and i aim to please so here we are! it was super fun honestly =3

The thing is, this is probably the first time Alastor’s ever experienced emotions like these. They’re unfamiliar, strange, and quite frankly, a little alarming at times. Who knew he, Alastor the magnificent radio demon, could fall in love!? Unthinkable!

Yet here he is, more than a little head over hooves for one Angel Dust. Of all the demons…but Angel is funny and sweet and wonderfully vicious in all the right ways to make Alastor’s heart pound it seems. It took Alastor a while to figure out what just what in the Hell was going on with his body when Angel was around. But once the mystery had been solved it had been pretty easy to convince his little spider that they should be together.

Alastor’s never done anything like this before though. He’s never been in a committed relationship; had barely even ventured into the world of the physical long enough to realize it wasn’t for him. All of that is being turned on it’s head now. Turns out, he _does_ enjoy carnal pleasure, it just takes the right partner. And he enjoys the relationship itself more than he ever thought possible.

But, as much as Alastor is unwilling to admit to any weaknesses, he can admit, at least to himself, that he has a fear. It’s highly warranted too, in his opinion. He hasn’t built his empire by using his manners and asking nicely after all. And though Angel is just as much a demon of Hell as he is, Alastor can’t help but occasionally fret that one day he’ll scare his little spider away.

There’s much to Alastor’s power after all; his shadows, his tentacles, his conjuring abilities, his deal-making. And that’s not getting into his ambition or blood lust or dietary indulgences.

So he’s done what he can to keep his work life, as it were, away from Angel. Easy enough considering Angel spends most of his days lounging around the hotel in various states of undress, and Alastor tends to see to his work at his radio tower. Thankfully he hasn’t been in the habit of broadcasting torture in a few years, mostly because it had started to lose its shock value after a while. He’d been planning to start it up again soon with some fun new games for his victims, but he’s reconsidering now that he knows Angel tunes into the station regularly.

This is why he’s so peeved the day someone turns up at the hotel looking for him, instead of going to the radio tower. He’s done so well not mixing his personal life with business, for good reason, and now here comes some imp looking to cause trouble.

Well, to complain about a deal Alastor had struck with him last week actually.

Thankfully the lobby is empty except for Husk manning his bar and the front desk, Angel still sleeping off last night’s shift at work.

“It’s just,” the imp is saying, fidgeting with his hands nervously, “it’s not what you promised me at all! And I don’t think that’s very fair. Aren’t you supposed to be, ya know, bein’ nicer and shit now that you work here?”

Alastor can already feel his patience wearing dangerously thin, and that nearly makes it snap completely. “Do not mistake my sponsorship for enrollment, imp,” he says through his teeth, the edges of his smile nearly too big for his face. His mouth isn’t even opening anymore, teeth clenched tight and voice emitting static after dealing with the imp for going on ten minutes. “In fact, do not connect me with redemption in any form in that simple little mind of yours. I am so far from redemption that it might as well be on another planet all together. Do you understand?”

The imp, clearly sensing the amount of danger he’s in, takes a tentative step back. Like something as simple as proximity could ever save him. “Uh. Yeah. I guess. But…my deal-”

“No!” Alastor snaps, then forces himself to calm. It’s so unlike him to get all worked up like this really. When he speaks again there’s a laugh track laid under his words, warped and twisted into something malevolent. “You asked me to make you rich, but did not specify rich in _what_. Do you know how often I run into greedy, worthless little imps like you with the same exact wish? You’re a dime a dozen! If you were truly worth anything you would have been a little smarter when we made the deal and realized I was _fucking you over_.”

The imp is practically cowering now, his eyes gone wide and knees knocking together. He’s still incredibly stupid though, like so many of Hell’s denizens, and he stammers a quiet, “B-b-but,” as if he argues enough Alastor might change his mind.

“No buts!” Alastor snaps, his temper finally boiling over. He can feel the shadows in the room detach all at once, eyes snapping open, jaws stretching wide in anticipation of a neat little snack. His own eyes are dark with static, the sound ricocheting loudly within his skull, and he looms over the cowering form of the imp.

“If you do not stop pestering me,” he hisses, voice deceptively calm but under laid with static and jazz music gone wrong, “I am going to redecorate the hotel with your entrails. And I promise you, you _will_ be awake for every agonizing second as I rip each individual organ from your pathetic, useless, vile little body. Have I made myself clear?”

The imp actually starts to cry and makes a mad dash for the front doors. Alastor lets him go, but only because Husk is still at the front desk, trying to look impassive about the entire situation but clearly freaked out.

Alastor takes a deep breath and reigns himself in, dialing his power down until he’s back in his regular body and the shadows have gone back to being inanimate. The sound of the hotel door swinging shut has never been more magical.

His relief is short lived when he hears footsteps from behind him and a familiar laugh. “Damn, you put on quite a show, babe!”

Alastor turns around slowly, dread settling in his stomach. The _one_ person he hadn’t wanted to see him like that. But, strangely enough, Angel doesn’t look unsettled in the slightest.

He’s wearing a white button down over a tight t-shirt (Alasor’s button down, he’s pretty sure) and bright pink high waisted shorts. One set of arms is crossed casually over his stomach and his mouth is pulled up into a familiar, affectionate smile. The one he always directs at Alastor. “Funny shit.”

Alastor blinks, thrown. “Excuse me?”

Angel approaches like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Husk didn’t leave the room the moment Alastor turned his back. “You, bein’ all threatenin’ and shit,” he says, throwing both arms around Alastor’s neck and leaning in close. “I tried not ta laugh so I didn’t throw ya off but it was kinda hard.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever referred to my threats as _funny_ ,” Alastor says slowly, still confused. Has he been so worried over nothing? And a better question, what the fuck is wrong with Angel?

The spider shrugs, still smiling. “What can I say, I’ve seen worse. You’re so cute when you get all static-y an’ growly an’ shit. Though I gotta say if ya had actually torn him apart that woulda been pretty hot.”

There’s a pause where Alastor considers his options before he finally sighs. “You worry me sometimes, my dear. But to be clear, you don’t find me threatening at all?”

“Personally? Naw,” Angel replies easily. His head cocks to the side, smile finally falling as he considers Alastor. “Why, did ya think I would be? Is that why ya never let me come over to the tower? Afraid you’ll have ta bloody some teeth in front of me or somethin’.”

And of course he’d hit the nail on the head. Alastor coughs to hide his sudden embarrassment; it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable fear only a few minutes ago.

Angel just throws his head back with a cackle, loud and echoing in the space of the empty lobby. A few months ago and it might have set Alastor’s nerves on end, but now he just finds it endearing. He slides his arms around Angel’s waist, finally returning the embrace.

“Aw, ya kill me, Smiles! Ya really thought ya’d scare me off?”

When Alastor doesn’t respond immediately, Angel’s smile grows before he leans in for a quick, dirty kiss. “Yer so fuckin’ cute sometimes, Al. I promise ya can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m like Hell’s worst STI.”

Alastor’s expression scrunches in distaste. “Did you have to word it like that? And here I thought we were having something of a moment.”

“Course I did,” Angel informs him primly, then presses a quick peck of a kiss against Alastor’s cheek before pulling away. “Now c’mon, I found some weird back room fulla cursed lookin’ shit, figured it’d make a good date night.”

Alastor’s interest piques instantly; what can he say, cursed antiques are a personal interest of his. “Well why didn’t you say so! Lead the way, my love.”

Angel grins at him again then takes his hand and pulls him further into the hotel. Completely unafraid. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, come check me out on [tumblr](https://scribespirare.tumblr.com/)


End file.
